


Dream of you.

by AaliyahManira



Series: Solsken & Ryss [5]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dream Sex, Dream Sharing, Idiots in Love, M/M, Washington Capitals, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AaliyahManira/pseuds/AaliyahManira
Summary: Nicky is a dream walker, but he almost never gets pulled into Sasha’s dreams—until he does.Inspired by these tumblr messages: What do you think you would see, if you ended up in your OTPs dreams? & I need, need, need some Nicky/Ovi in my life after that beauty of a goal Nicky just scored. Please?





	Dream of you.

**Author's Note:**

> I used the song Tili Tili Bom in something I was writing for my novel this week and then had it stuck in mu head, so it became a part of this fic. It’s beautiful and creepy and you should listen to it if you don’t know it.

It’s not something Nicky does on purpose. It just sort of... happens. He mostly manages to avoid ending up in Sasha’s dreams at first and he isn’t sure whether its sheer luck, divine intervention, or the fact that Sasha really likes to stay out too late. Either way, he considers it a win.  
And then, after they beat the Leafs in Toronto, something is different. Nicky gets ready for bed the same way he always does, takes a shower so he doesn’t have to smell like the bland soap they use at the arena, brushes his teeth, and puts on his pyjamas so he can climb under the covers and get as much sleep as possible before they have to fly home.  
His eyes barely close before he feels the familiar tug at the base of his skull.  
When he opens his eyes, he’s in a room he doesn’t recognise and Sasha’s laying on his back on the bed with a pillow over his face. Nicky’s been at it long enough to know that he can’t speak or make much noise at all, since it’s Sasha’s dream and not his. Still, he’s only there a few seconds when Sasha pulls the pillow off of his face and looks over.  
“Oh, hi Nicky,” he says quietly. It’s not in English, but Nicky has long accepted that the benefit of invading people’s dreams is that he can understand them anyway. He smiles to let Sasha know he’s been heard, so used to his forced silence that he doesn’t even try to open his mouth.  
“So pathetic. Finally fall asleep and still can’t stop thinking about you,” for a second, Nicky feels offended, and then the words sink in and his heart swells. Since he can’t actually scold Sasha for being mean to himself, he reaches over to grab a pillow off of the extra bed and throws it at the side of Sasha’s head. He jumps and his eyes snap open and Nicky plasters his most judgemental look on his face to get his point across. Sasha sighs and shakes his head, wrapping the pillow in a hug and turning on his side to look at Nicky, still sitting in the corner of the room in a reasonably comfortable arm chair.  
“How is dream Nicky just as mean as real Nicky? My dream, should be nice to me,” Sasha isn’t talking to him, but Nicky’s face still softens. Nicky wants to ask him if he’s okay, wants to know why he’s asleep in his hotel room and not out at whatever shitty bar the guys have gone to drinking over-priced vodka and watching the girls dance. But mostly, Nicky wants to know why his eyes are red around the edges and why he sounds like he’s still on the verge of crying.  
“I know you’re not real, but can you come lay with me?” Nicky doesn’t even hesitate. He gets up out of his chair, crosses the room, and lays down on top of the covers. Sasha flops onto his back and exhales, staring at the ceiling. After a few long minutes of silence, Sasha’s fingers creep across the mattress and tangle with Nicky’s.  
“Tell me it’s going to be okay, Nicky,” Sasha says wistfully. Nicky feels the block in his throat disappear and squeezes Sasha’s hand.  
“It’s already okay, Sasha. Everything is okay.”

Nicky wakes up to the sound of his alarm and stabs blindly at his phone before he falls back against the pillows and scrubs at his face with his hands. The numbers on the clock feet too bright against his sleepy eyes and the glimmers of sunlight leaking around the blackout curtains are just enough to remind him that he has to get up if he doesn’t want to be late.  
He drags himself out of bed, says thank you to himself for having the forethought to pack all of his shit before he went to sleep, and yanks his pyjama shirt over his head.  
“It smells like Sasha,” he says to the empty room, bringing the shirt to his nose. He breathes in the scent of Sasha’s cologne and closes his eyes. He gives himself exactly fifteen seconds to enjoy it and then shakes himself into motion, shoving the shift into his suitcase and dragging his fingers through the tangled length of his curls.

  
It happens again when they’re at home before their game against Dallas. Nicky’s usually far enough away from everyone that afternoon naps aren’t a problem and sleep before Sasha so he doesn’t get pulled in, but he stayed behind to talk to the trainer and got home later than he expected. He was laying down for his nap, tucked comfortably into the familiar warmth of his bed, when Sasha’s dream tugged at the base of his skull and pulled him in.  
This dream was different than the first. In it, Sasha’s in his bedroom, pacing the length of the room in the dark with his cellphone pressed to his ear.  
There’s a song in the air, not coming from any specific place and there all the same. It’s haunting, the melody is too high and the voice too sweet for the words.  
Sasha doesn’t notice him this time and Nicky’s not sure whether it would be more invasive to let his presence be known or fade into the background. Instead of choosing, he stays still, hovering awkwardly in the mostly shadowed corner of the room.  
Sasha’s pacing gets faster and faster as the song gets louder and the shadows roll around them, creeping in closer and closer until they’re ready to close around Sasha altogether. The phone is gone and Sasha’s not talking anymore. He’s breathing hard and his whole body is shaking, a thin sheen of sweat covering every inch of his skin. Nicky reaches out and grabs his hand just before the shadows close around him and obscure him from sight.  
He feels the minute Sasha wakes up like a bucket of ice water being thrown over his shoulders.  
He opens his eyes to prove to himself that the shadows aren’t real and then doesn’t go back to sleep.

Nicky doesn’t realise he’s humming until Kuzy strides past him and yanks his earbud out.  
“Where you learn that?” Nicky looks up half a second too late and realises that Kuzy’s talking to him. Across the room, Sasha is pale and stiff.  
“Hm?” He asks distractedly, suddenly wishing he was anywhere else.  
“Is Russian lullaby. Very dark. Where you learn?” Nicky forces himself to shrug.  
“Woke up with it stuck in my head,” he says honestly, “I didn’t realise I was humming it out loud, I’m sorry.”  
The apology is for Sasha, studiously pretending that he has no idea what’s going on. Nicky wants to check on him, but he knows better. Kuzy stares at him for a few more seconds and then seems to decide he doesn’t want to know and walks away. Nicky doesn’t hum out loud anymore, but the words play over and over in his head anyway, too high and too sweet.  
He scores on the word ‘closer’ and shivers violently against the chill that runs down his spine.  
The song doesn’t play again after that.

The next time Nicky sees Sasha in a dream, it’s his. They’re on the road, staying in a hotel in Columbus, and it’s raining so hard Nicky can’t see the highway from his window.  
He feels the pull ay the base of his skull as he falls asleep and fights it, tugging in the opposite direction and pulling Sasha with him.  
Nicky takes them to the farm he knows is about an hour south of the city, the one with the rusty old silo and metal barn. It’s raining just as hard in the dream as it is in the real world, but the rain sounds different on the tin roof. Sasha seems disoriented at first and Nicky sees him try to talk twice before he realises that he’s the reason the words aren’t coming out. He closes his eyes and gives Sasha silent permission to speak as he climbs up onto the wheel-well of the farmer’s old red tractor.  
“How come dream Nicky always shows up when I need him?” Sasha asks the rain, reaching one big hand out and letting the fat droplets splatter against his scarred knuckles. Nicky doesn’t answer, not because he can’t, but because he’s afraid he won’t stop talking if he starts. Sasha laughs bitterly.  
“Was a stupid question. Dream Nicky knows, just like real Nicky knows,” Sasha looks at him, “Too smart Nicky, always too smart.”  
The silence that stretches between them is long and heavy. Nicky can’t hear his own breathing over the sound of the thunderstorm swinging around them. Nicky knows he can make the storm stop, knows he can make it quieter, but somehow he thinks that would make whatever’s hovering in the air between the, worse, so he lets it be.  
“Sasha, what’s wrong?” Nicky’s voice is rough, but he knows that Sasha can hear it, even over the sound of the storm. Another benefit to dreams. Sasha withdraws his hand from the rain and wipes it dry on his sweats. The dark smudge against the light grey seems strange and out of place, so Nicky thinks it away.  
“It isn’t real,” is all Sasha says as he walks away from the open barn door and climbs onto a barstool that doesn’t look like it would hold a book, let along an oversized Russian bear. Nicky knows it will, but that doesn’t stop him from being a little bit worried at first. He waits and watches Sasha stare at his hands for a while before he realises that there’s blue steel locked on his face.  
“What isn’t real?” He asks quietly, suddenly sure that raising his voice will change everything. Sasha shakes his head and swallows a bitter laugh.  
“This,” he gestures around. “I dream you up, let myself pretend you are actually here, that you will actually be there when I wake up. But you won’t, because this isn’t real,” Nicky’s heart breaks and he accidentally sets off a peal of thunder that vibrates the entire barn. Sasha winces and pulls his feet up a rung so he can hug his knees.  
“Sasha, you don’t know what I would say if you asked me to be there when you woke up, because you’ve never asked,” Nicky isn’t sure whether it’s him or Sasha that wakes up and ends the dream, but he’s sitting up in his bed a few seconds later feeling like the last thing he wants to do is go back to sleep.  
Instead of trying, he pulls on a pair of sneakers and throws on gym clothes and heads out into the rain.

“Nicky? Why you wet?” Nicky has to push his curls back out of his eyes and wipe the water off of his forehead with the back of his hand before he can look up at Sasha and process what he’s saying. He’s standing in the middle of the hallway bare footed and bare chested with a bucket of ice in his hand, looking like he hasn’t slept in weeks. Nicky knows that he has, onjectively, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried.  
“Weird dream, couldn’t go back to sleep. Do you want to come in?” Sasha nods and follows Nicky into his hotel room, ice bucket and all. Nicky detours into the bathroom to strip out of his wet clothes and comes back with a towel around his hips to find Sasha laying on the side of the bed farthest from the window, cuddling one of the pillows to his chest exactly the way he had in the first dream Nicky ever saw.  
“I have weird dream too,” Sasha says as Nicky gets dressed, “was good, but weird. Wake up too soon because willy cheat at cards and Mike get mad.”  
“That explains it,” Nicky says, more to himself than to Sasha. He gets a strange look, but Sasha doesn’t ask him about it. Nicky’s towelling his hair off when he realises Sasha’s eyes are getting heavy. He lays down on the bed beside him and throws an arm over his eyes to drown out the lamplight.  
“What made your dream weird?” He asks, settling into the sound of Sasha’s steady breathing beside him. Sasha laughs sleepily and manages to tuck his legs under the mess of blankets between them.  
“Dream Nicky is just like real Nicky, only dream Nicky always looks like he’s going to say something and never does,” it isn’t really an answer, but Sasha’s falling asleep and Nicky knows its the best he’s going to get. He lays in bed next to Sasha for a while before he feels his fingers slide across the mattress and smiles when Sasha takes his hand. He slides easily into sleep after that and lands squarely in the middle of a dream that’s most definitely Sasha’s and most definitely going to make waking up next to his very, very difficult.

There are two Nicky’s in the dream he’s in and that’s only the second most surprising thing about it. The most surprising thing is that when he lands on the wheel-well of the old red tractor, he makes eye contact with himself from where Sasha has him pushed against the barn wall.  
“Shit,” Nicky says under his breath, scrambling backwards over the tractor and dropping to the ground on the far side so he won’t be seen. He bites down on his own fist just in time for the sensation of Sasha’s mouth to envelope his rapidly hardening cock.  
Nicky’s only ever been pulled into dreams that were about him twice before and they’ve never been about se . He isn’t expecting to feel the fire low in his belly or the way Sasha’s wicked tongue works the head of his cock, digging into the slit before he slides down and swallows him whole.  
It takes every ounce of his strength to pull back and out of the dream, but he comes to just before his orgasm is about to rip through him and manages not to groan in frustration as he stumbles to the bathroom. He catches sight of Sasha as he goes, cock straining against his sweats, and swears.  
It takes three long strokes of his hand and he’s shooting hot streams of cum over his fingers. He cleans himself up and leans forward to let his head rest on the cool marble of the counter top for a long time before he goes back to bed.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for Ovi all morning and can’t find him. Have you seen him?” Nicky glances up from taping his stick and regards Brooks with cool green eyes. He shrugs.  
“He probably just slept late, give him a few more minutes and then text him if he isn’t here. Brooks grumbles but walks away. Nicky goes back to taping and doesn’t notice Tom standing in the doorway staring until he finishes one stick and reaches for the next.  
“Wait, if you’re here, why did I just see Sasha coming out of your room?” Before Nicky says anything, Tom seems to hear the question he’s asked and decide that he doesn’t want to hear the answer. Nicky ignores the chirping coming from the edges of the room and the whispered conversations the question sparks in favour of letting them think he’ll kill them if they don’t leave him alone.  
Sasha struts in a few minutes later and Nicky has to forcibly drag his eyes away from the way his suit clings to the muscles of his ass.  
“Sasha, the kids were very worried about you, they wouldn’t leave Kolya alone,” Nicky isn’t sure whether to laugh or flash Kuzy murder eyes, so he just shrugs.  
“If I let them ruffle me, I’d never get anything done,” Nicky says, standing up snd stretching his arms over his head. Sasha nearly drops his coffee.  
“Nicky?” Nicky drops his arms and looks around. Everyone’s staring at him and he can’t help but feel like he missed the punchline of a bad joke.  
“What?”  
“That wasn’t in English, Nicky,” Sasha says, still staring.  
Oh.  
“I guess I’m getting better, I’ve been trying to listen.” It’s a lie, Sasha probably knows it, Nicky definitely knows it, and Kuzy looks like he suspects too, but they let it go.

The night before they play Pittsburgh, Nicky’s laying on his couch watching some action movie and sipping at a beer when Sasha lets himself in. He only knows it’s Sasha because no one else has a key and no one else would be comfortable letting themselves into his house without any kind of heads up. Nicky looks up and watches the door, waiting for Sasha to appear. When he does, he’s wearing his stupid grey toque and sweats, with a bag of chinese takeout in his hand.  
“Hey, Nicky? Can I stay?” Sasha looks like he’s afraid he’ll be sent away and holds the bag of takeout like a bribe. Nicky wants to tell him he’s always welcome, wants to tell him that he wouldn’t have a key if he wasn’t allowed in, but he isn’t sure he knows how to say it without his voice giving away too much. Instead, he swings his legs down and scoots back so Sasha can sit down on the couch with him.  
“Thank you,” Sasha says as he settles. His feet are bare and Nicky knows that his shoes are in a pile right inside the door. Sasha folds his legs and deposits the bag of food on the cushion between them. He doesn’t reach into the bag to distribute the food and he doesn’t spread out on the couch like he usually would. Nicky eyes him and then sets his beer on the table.  
“Sasha, whatever it is, it’s okay. You can stay as long as you want,” Sasha exhales and Nicky gets up. He goes to the kitchen and pours Sasha a drink. He comes back and hovers just behind Sasha’s shoulder, barely resisting the urge to touch him. Sasha looks up and meets his eyes, fingers barely a centimetre away from his on the bottom of the glass.  
“Thank you, Nicky.”

Nicky falls asleep the night after they play the Rangers before anyone else is back at the hotel, so he doesn’t get pulled in to anyone’s dreams. He’s blissfully alone inside his own head, dreaming about swallowing Sasha down against the door of his hotel room as a reward for the way he played, when he tugs Sasha in with him.  
Sasha’s hands are in his hair and Sasha’s cock is bumping at the back of his throat and he doesn’t even realise that Sasha’s real until he wakes up with the remnants of Sasha’s cum on his lips.  
“Oops,” he says to himself as he runs his thumb over his lip and licks it clean. He’s getting ready to push his sweats down and wrap his hand around his own cock when there’s a knock at his door.  
He wants to ignore it.  
He almost does.  
But it comes again, and then there’s a soft ‘Nicky?’ from the hallway. He forces himself to get up and pulls his sweatshirt down to hide the bulge of his erection before he opens the door.  
Sasha looks wrecked. The hallway behind him is empty and quiet, but he’s anything but. His hair—the silver parts and the black—is sticking up in a number of directions and there’s a flush of colour stretching all the way down to his navel. Nicky pointedly doesn’t follow it with his eyes.  
“How you do?” Sasha asks, somewhere between demanding and pleading. Nicky forgets his English for half a second and then remembers how to move his face enough to arch an eyebrow  
“How do I do what?”  
“Look me in the eye, Kolya, and tell me you you have no idea what I’m talking about,” even Sasha’s Russian sounds desperate and Nicky wants to lie. He wants to tell Sasha he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and close the door in his face so that he protects what they have, but he can’t. Instead of doing what he should, he steps back and clears the doorway for Sasha to come into his room.  
“I don’t know how I do it, I just do. I’ve been getting pulled into people’s dreams since I was a little boy,” he closes the door and holds his breath, watching the muscles of Sasha’s back until he turns around and faces him.  
“Always other people dreams?” Sasha asks in English, eyes dropping slowly down Nicky’s body and catching here his erection is still straining against his pants.  
“No, not always. I can...” he trails off for a second, deciding how much information to give. “I can pull people into mine too if I know them well enough and they’re asleep nearby. I don’t very often, but I can. And sometimes—sometimes it happens by accident, when I’m having a dream I want them to have too.” Nicky waits, his heart beating in his ears.  
“You wanted me to have that one, then?” Sasha takes one long step and brings himself right up into Nicky’s space, forcing him to take an involuntary step backward and pin himself to the door. Nicky’s eyes drop involuntarily to the waistband of Sasha’s sweats and then snap back up.  
“You didn’t see how well you played.”


End file.
